sitting on your nest, future babies under your feet.
Choosing to hatch, under our porch roof,
obviously a love match, but remaining aloof.
Daily I walk by your clutch, trying not to look,
avoiding a tiny touch, stepping around your gook,
loving the species, but despising the feces.
Please make your babies and all fly away
Before I get a fucking broom and pulverize you
and the rest of your shitting friends all the way
down the street and into the gutter where
you will all die surrounded by other garbage and
nature’s cast offs.